


Witchling

by Angrykarin666



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Female Harry Potter, Fluff, Gen, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:06:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25654108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angrykarin666/pseuds/Angrykarin666
Summary: During a hunt Jill and Jane find a little girl that they like very much and decide to keep her. Harriet's wishes of family are answered in an unorthodox way, but she likes her new mothers and uncles very much.Otherwise known as one of the many many many ideas for a creepypasta/HP crossover i've had that I decided to share. There will be fluff, blood, and lots of alternate ships from my other "Harry raised by creeps" AU.
Relationships: Laughing Jill/Jane the Killer
Comments: 19
Kudos: 109





	Witchling

Jill and Jane didn’t usually hunt together. Not because they didn’t like each other or anything of that ilk, like Jeff and Laughing Jack or Jane and Jeff, the two actually liked each other a lot. They just had differing tastes in victims and methods of killing is all, Jill taking after her “twin” in using her claws and candy on children - specifically the spoiled and naughty ones - on top of her preferred victims of bad and neglectful parents (a side effect of her brief time dating and partnering with Jack before they settled as friends/siblings) while Jane slashed and stabbed adults she finds distasteful with her knives.

There’s not really a lot of overlap between the pair’s hunting grounds, so whenever the two creep women are found hunting together it’s generally a premeditated choice. Jack jokingly calls them dates, which isn’t exactly wrong. Both murderous females have been an item of sorts for ages, even going so far as to refer to each other as their wife, so their rare occasions killing as a duo really are like another form of date for them.

Laughing Jill’s white eyes scanned the quiet cookie-cutter suburban neighborhood that her lovely lady had picked out for them, a sharp-toothed smile stretching her black lips as she can practically smell the numerous spoiled rotten children in this burb just waiting for her. A giggle leaves the clown as she glances at her girlfriend, whose fully black eyes are enjoying her own excitement on top of whatever she already feels knowing just how many rotten adults spoiled said children were waiting for her knife.

“Like it?” Jane asked with a smirk on her own black lips, earning another gleeful chuckle from the other monochrome woman. “I love it! This is perfect!”

Sharing a brief kiss, barely a peck on the lips, the pair of creeps begin their slaughtering of the neighborhood’s residents. Sneaking into the houses is remarkably easy, as whichever houses aren’t left unlocked tend to leave their windows wide open to let in the chilled night air in the summer. The wicked grins that both sported as they snuck into their first house only seemed to grow with each victim they claimed; be they corrupt businessmen, vain and rude housewives, or bratty kids.

And no matter if every now and then one of their prey manages to get a scream in for some reason no one seems to wake or care that said neighbor may be in danger. After the first screamer, a reedy bully of a boy with a face like a weasel’s, went unremarked the women lost their reservations at keeping the kills quiet to see just when someone would bother to call the police… No one did, it seemed as though the humans of Little Whinging cared very little for the suffering of their neighbors.

They probably thought it wasn’t any of their business unless the suffering affected them personally. A mistake that will cost them dearly.

As they approached the house that would be one of their last, at least for Jill as she couldn’t sense anymore children besides the ones here, both black dressed women were struck by something odd about this seemingly ordinary house. Jane was confused, she could tell that the family here in Number 4 were among some of the vilest excuses for humans she’d encountered since snapping, but they weren’t the only ones here and were coated in a power not their own or _other_ like theirs was. Jill meanwhile was shivering at the feel of the strange not-quite-creep energy as they passed through what felt like a bath of darkness, light, and blood. “There’s a magical here, it’s been a while since I saw one of them!”

The black and white clown woman skipped silently through the house, sniffing the air as though to track the source of said magic by scent. Stopping in front of a tiny locked cupboard under the stairs, Jane joining her and wrinkling her own nose at the scent of fresh blood coming from inside. Unlatching and opening the small door with a clawed hand Jill’s white eyes took in the tiny witch, for that’s what was curled up in the darkness there silently, bleeding and bruised and staring up at her with glowing green eyes. The girl wasn’t afraid of the pair of creeps, despite the fact that both were liberally coated in a layer of blood and gore, relaxing the second her eyes found a pair of strangers rather than whichever member of the house she’d expected. The clown burned with hatred in a way she hasn’t since Mary.

“Jane, do you mind watching her for me? I need to see to her… ****family****.” It was clear from the way the taller woman spat out the word that she used that word very loosely, the little witch and black eyed woman watching her leave in equal surprise. This was a first tonight, since Jill had been happy to leave the parents to her girlfriend most of the night.

As the sounds of her lover’s ire being vented started Jane returned her gaze to the small girl, the child doing the same. The little witch had wild black locks much like a blend of Jill’s curls and the untamable spikes her “brother” and Jeff sported, only cropped into a boyish mop. Where she wasn’t covered by the ratty oversized t-shirt that she wore like a dress was pale in a way that spoke of how little the child was let out of the dark and bore dark bruises or blood from those gashes on her arms and back.

She looked nearly as colorless as the pair of creep women did, especially wrapped in the darkness and blood as she was now, and Jane found herself smiling at her. “What is your name little one?”

The witch bit her lip before replying in a whisper “My Aunt and Uncle call me Freak or Girl… But my teacher at school this year calls me Harriet.” So caught up in her own anger at the girl’s relatives the woman barely caught her following question “Who are you?”

After a banshee-like screech from the woman upstairs, followed by the tearing of flesh and silence, the black eyed creep replies “I am known as Jane the Killer. And the woman upstairs is my wife, Laughing Jill.”

“Like the stories the older kids talk about?” Harriet asks, green eyes glittering. “Did you come here to kill someone bad?”

Jill returned at that moment, offering the girl a lollipop (that wasn’t poisoned) which was accepted gleefully, and answered “We are and we have. I’ve never met a worse family than your relatives witchling.”

“Witchling?” the child asked around the pink lolly in her mouth, earning a look of shock from the clown “Surely you know you’re a witch?! You can practically taste your magic in the air here! You have to have used it plenty!”

Green eyes looked away tearily “Oh… Is-Is that why Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon called me a freak? Because I can do m-magic?”

Jane grimaced “Probably. But you don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

Her wife’s white eyes sparkled as she added “Yeah! You’re ours now!” earning gapes from both of the other females as they said simultaneous “What?”

Clawed hands grabbed the girl under her armpits and pulled her into them, resting the 5 year old against her chest and rubbing her white cheek against the child’s mop of black curls. White eyes locked on surprised black to beg as she stated “You’re going to be me and Jane’s witchling now!”

Jane held in a sigh, not denying the fact that seeing Harried in her lover’s arms like their daughter was a very nice image. She knew that keeping the others away from the kid would be a chore, and Slender was likely going to be very unhappy with the clown’s impulsive decision to adopt a kid, but surprisingly she didn’t dislike the idea. “If she wants Jill, we need to ask first.”

Harriet wrapped her injured arms around the clown’s neck, hiding her face in her curls, as she muttered “I do… I want that.”

Shortly after the trio of ravens vanished in a swirl of shadows a trio of robed figures stormed into the house. The youngest, a man with long black hair and a hooked nose, took in the open cupboard and blood around and inside it with horror while the older two ran up the stairs. The woman clutched her heart as she moved from the bedroom filled with only toys to the other and found the boy ripped open and stuffed with candy, fighting the overwhelming urge to vomit. The eldest and most Merlin-looking of the group, clad in gaudy colorful robes checked on the parents and went pale as his long silver beard at the sight.

Vernon was ripped apart in a manner similar to his son, though his intestines were tied into the shape of a balloon flower and his heart was resting in his mouth. Petunia meanwhile was ripped to shreds, what looked to be wicked claw marks like those of a werewolf or bear covered her corpse. But there was no sign of little Harriet, whose lost connections to the devices meant to track her and her state had led them here as soon as they stopped working.

Their only hope of defeating the Dark Lord had disappeared in the night.


End file.
